


Break down (Build again)

by RemyJane



Series: Collectively, Unconsciously Composed [2]
Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Hypoglycemia, M/M, Panic Attacks, Soul-bond, bondmates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-29
Updated: 2017-03-29
Packaged: 2018-10-12 12:18:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,882
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10490733
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RemyJane/pseuds/RemyJane
Summary: An away mission gone wrong triggers a panic attack for Jim.





	

**Author's Note:**

> In my head, Jim developed hypoglycemia as a result of something on Tarsus and his mind associates hunger and low blood sugar with life-threatening danger, thus triggering his panic attacks/PTSD.

“You should sit.” Spock said, one hand on Jim’s shoulder. The edges of their bond was a familiar kind of fuzzy, muted like light through a foggy sky. He did not page medical; he could sense Leonard already en route. 

“M’fine.” Jim managed, blinking thickly. He was bloodied and covered in dirt. Spock was mildly impressed he had stayed upright the entire time between the transporter platform and the bridge. 

“You were held captive for 3 days, Captain. Perhaps you should rest.” Spock steered him firmly towards his chair. Jim stumbled, feet tangling together underneath him. Uhura and Sulu were watching out of the corner of their eyes, pretending to be looking at their displays. Chekov was in the Med Bay. 

Jim grabbed Spock’s elbow, bracing himself. “Spock?” He asked, voice weak. He listed to one side and Spock caught him as his eyes rolled back in his head, unhappily familiar with the series of events. 

When the doors opened to reveal Leonard, Jim was blinking owlishly in his chair. “Dammit Jim! You were suppose to come straight to see me!” Leonard swore. He continued his rant as he scanned him with his tricorder. “How-!- I know you're stubborn but this-! You should know better by now, you're the Captain, for God’s sake!”

“Doctor.” Spock interrupted quietly. 

“Really, what did you think would happen? Did you think I wouldn't remember, somehow, that you were on that away mission?!”

“Doctor.” Spock tried again. Jim was pale, skin dewy with sweat. Leonard swiped angrily through the tricorders results. 

“Look at this! Cracked ribs, contusions, lacerations galore. You know all that dirt is bad for you, right? Probably got God-only-knows in it. Space is danger and disease, you remember that-”

“Leonard.” Spock touched his arm. 

“What?!” Leonard snapped. Spock could feel the tightly coiled worry that had morphed into anger at Jim’s dismissal of his own care and health. Leonard had barely slept the last three days. He'd been on the bridge, pacing behind the chair Spock hadn't been able to bring himself to sit in 

Spock nodded his head towards Jim, creating enough of a pause that Leonard could feel the dripping anxiety slowly welling in their bond. 

“Ah, Hell, Jim. C’mon, let's go.” Jim was uncharacteristically obedient, mutely obeying. He was trembling minutely. “Spock? A hand?”

“Mr. Sulu, you have the con. Please, contact me if there are any changes.” He said as he helped Jim to the lift. 

Spock was surprised when Leonard bypassed medical and took Jim straight to his quarters. He raised his eyebrows at Leonard, who shrugged, careful not to dislodge Jim, who was slumped against him. 

“You know how he gets.” He said gruffly. Spock nodded. He could feel the anxiety slowly shifting towards panic and abject fear like a sky shifted from dusk to dark. 

“He likely has not eaten in three days, other than his energy bars.” Jim always carried energy bars in his pockets, due to an understandable fear of being without food. Spock had taken to having an energy bar in his pocket each day as well, just in case; Jim was susceptible to his blood glucose levels dropping. 

“He gave them to Chekhov.” Leonard said flatly. “He told him he knew he could go without.” Spock found himself without words. He longed to hold Jim. 

The lift opened and they guided the pliant captain down the hall, supporting more and more of his weight, until Spock picked him up to carry him the last few feet inside, depositing him on his bed. 

Jim’s teeth were chattering, eyes shut tight. His breath was hissing through his clenched teeth. Not unconscious, Leonard could tell. “Kid, you need to eat something.” He said gently, voice tender. His anger melting away in the face of Jim’s total trust. The blond gripped his shirt in a fist. 

“Can't, can't.” He panted, voice breaking. Spock sat beside him. 

“Your blood glucose is insufficient. You will feel better after you eat.” He said patiently. He stroked Jim’s damp hair off his forehead, feeling the mounting terror. Jim covered his mouth, biting back a sound. 

“Darlin’, you just need to eat a little bit. Then this’ll stop.” Leonard’s heart ached for him, a pang in his chest when he realized Jim had broken the skin on his finger with his teeth. “Jimmy…” he sighed. 

“I can't. I know but I can't. I just…” Jim was miserably lost, tears leaking down his face to his ears. 

“You can. We've done this before.” God, Leonard thought, it felt like a thousand times. Each second of Jim’s agony was like an hour, it always had been, even before Spock, before the bond. 

“I have a chocolate bar.” Spock supplied, producing a chocolate energy bar from his jacket breast pocket. “You are welcome to it. The taste does not suit me and I am satiated.” 

Leonard nodded. “I'm full up, too. You want a bite of this?” Jim wouldn't eat if he thought they needed the food. He was stupidly selfless at times. 

Jim’s face crumpled and he sobbed brokenly, the sound half swallowed as he fought to contain himself, even though they could feel his panic looming like a wave ready to break. He was slowly coming unglued, genuinely scared, a gut-wrenching chill soaking through the bond like black ink. 

Leonard could feel his eyes watering. A glance at Spock told him he wasn't the only one affected, the Vulcan’s face barely maintaining its neutral mask. Spock’s eyes were open windows and he was shaken as well. 

“Leonard, do you have the dextrose hypo?” Spock asked levely. 

Leonard nodded. “In my bag. It's better if he eats, though.” The hypo would raise his blood sugar, but it made him nauseous and he couldn't eat afterwards. His sugar would just drop back down and they'd be here again. 

“P-P-Pavel?” Jim asked, forcing out the word. 

“He's eaten already too. He's going to be ok. You're the only one that still needs to eat.” Leonard soothed. He squeezed his hand. 

“T-the whole t-time...I c-couldn't stop t-thinking about T-Tarsus.” Jim confessed, trying to force words passed his trembling lips. 

“You survived.” Spock kissed their fingers together. “You are stronger than what happened to you.” Jim was fighting to hold himself together, the restraint obvious in the bond, the emotions slightly distant or dulled. “You do not need to hide now.” 

Jim cried fully, then, engulfed in vivid memories. Leonard bowed his head, hiding the tears that ran down his cheeks. His chest felt torn open and icy, almost like he couldn't breath through Jim's distress. Spock kept stroking his fingers wordlessly, focusing on projecting a warmth. Jim was writhing in misery, swamped by nightmarish images. Looking up, Leonard could see that Spock’s unflappably countenance had broken, his emotions bared to them and them alone. 

Leonard swallowed, wiping his face dry. “Darlin’, you're not alone. We’re right here.” 

Agonizingly, painfully slowly, Jim calmed. Each breath caught in his throat like a sob, but some of the dark haze had cleared away. He allowed Spock to pull him upright, leaning against Spock to brace himself. 

He blinked at them, expression blank. His side of their bond was distant, quiet. He was always at least a little dissociated after a panic attack, though, so Leonard didn't worry. He'd come back around in his own time. 

“Here, eat this.” Jim's fingers took a minute to grasp the energy bar, but he finally brought it to his mouth and took a tiny nibble. Leonard grinned broadly at him. “There, good. Good job.” 

Spock’s eyes were smiling, a sparkle dancing in their darkness. They watched together as Jim slowly finished eating. Leonard moved to sit beside him, throwing an arm around him, hand resting on Spock’s shoulder. The bruises and broken bones could wait a moment while he enjoyed how it felt to have his bondmates safe and together again. 

Gradually, the numbness faded and Jim grew restless, shifting occasionally. He was careful, but one last movement drew a hiss. 

“Should we relocate to the medical bay?” Spock asked. 

“Nah, I knew he'd break something. I've got an osteo-regen in my kit.” Leonard said, aiming for casual. 

“I'm right here.” Jim rolled his eyes. “I can hear you.” 

“When has that ever stopped me?” Leonard snorted, mussing his hair gently. “I need you to eat more before we mend those ribs.” 

Jim managed a sandwich and a banana. It wasn't much, but Leonard was happy to get him to eat anything at all. He set up the osteoregenerator and knitted back together the hairline fractures in his right side ribs. The regenerator compressed weeks of healing into minutes, and it could seriously deplete a body. Leonard selected only the biggest lacerations to heal, cleaning and bandaging the rest. 

“Well, you won't be winning any beauty pageants soon, but it'll do.” 

“Inspiring, as always, Bones.” Jim grinned. He chuckled, looking away. “So, sorry about all that, I just...yeah.” He was awkward, almost uncomfortable in his own skin. 

“There is no need to apologize.” Spock assured him. “We understand.”

Jim’s eyes shone brighter with tears when he looked up, smiling at them. Leonard realized Jim had never had one person in his life who truly accepted him; now he had two. 

“Thanks.” He said, voice thick with emotion. 

Leonard could feel the bone-deep fatigue hitting him. “Do you want something to help you sleep?” He asked, gently. Jim flushed, embarrassed, but nodded. 

“Yeah.” 

“You're not the only one who’ll have nightmares.” Leonard admitted. Jim opened his mouth but the doctor cut him off. “Don't. It's just been a rough few days all around.” 

Jim, aided by medicines, fell asleep quickly. Spock waited until he was settled before he spoke. “Are you alright?”

“He hurts so much sometimes.” Leonard answered, muffled. 

“He has survived horrendous things.” Spock agreed. “He told me, after we first bonded, that the nightmares and panic attacks are less all consuming than before. Even during an episode, our connection comforts him.” 

Leonard smoothed an errant lock of Jim's hair, any excuse to touch him. “I wish I could fix it.”

“Due to his associations, I suspect his hypoglycemia will always predispose him to panic attacks. His coping mechanisms are functional, these were simply exigent circumstances.” Jim carried snacks and ate often, keeping himself from ever reaching the point of susceptibility. 

Leonard wasn't sure it was something on Tarsus or a medication he received afterwards, but he was left with a glucose disorder, wherein his blood glucose level would drop. Jim could hardly eat when he was really hungry, a lingering maladaptive behavior from Tarsus. His blood sugar would drop, which created an adrenaline surge. It didn't take a doctor to see why hunger plus the Fight or Flight response spelled trouble for Jim. 

Leonard had been lost in thought too long. Spock spoke again. “We should rest, Doctor.” 

Leonard nodded and stripped down to his underclothes, watching as Spock did the same. Jim smelled like sweat and stale air, but Leonard hugged him to his chest all the same. 

“I love you.” He told Spock, holding his hand. 

The Vulcan smiled at him faintly, corners of his mouth tipping upwards ever so slightly. “And I, thee.” 

Between them, Jim slept.


End file.
